Consecrated
by EsotericCrimson
Summary: When ObiWan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.
1. Prologue: Paradise Lost

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** George Lucas' brainchild – not my own. Unfortunately…sigh

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** I feel obligated to explain the premise of this story before I begin; to avoid any misconceptions or confusion.

This fic has already been mostly written, and its majority is comprised of flashbacks that are spurred by the events of the story at hand. This served a duel purpose in my head – one; to flesh out the back story; and two; to merge the desire to write a sort of history of Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship with my wish to delve into the world of slash fanfiction.

Which brings me to my next point; this is my first slash fic. The slash isn't obvious until the end, and it is in no way explicit – I wrote this as a sort of "warm up" to the idea. I'm not sure how well it did turn out, where it does show up in the story, at least; so I warn you on that account in advance.

From here, I suppose all I can say is that I really hope you enjoy the fic. And please review, as it makes my day and will most likely inspire me to update with all haste (as the immediately following chapters are already complete)

Thanks :D

- EsotericCrimson

* * *

Prologue: Paradise Lost

The cacophony of despairing cries were not what resonated in his mind as he recalled the incident.

He couldn't recall anything more than the basic facts with certainty - the rest was simply a flash of sequential images that seemed important out of context, but he couldn't be sure that they had any real bearing, because he hadn't been entirely concerned with them at the time, and he wasn't at all concerned with them now.

They had arrived planet-side only a week earlier, having been assigned to oversee negotiations on Cato Neimoidia for the InterGalactic Banking Clan. Apparently, chairman San Hill had aggravated no small number of his allies in offering his services to both the Republic and the Separatists. Both parties being rather militant in their demands for financial justice, the Jedi Council had requested, at the behest of the Senate, that one of their own number accompany a Knight to a conference, aimed at peaceably reconciling the two opposing interests, in order to mediate the event. Tensions between the two factions were far too great, and while the Jedi were loyal to the Republic, they were keepers of the peace above all things. The Clone Wars were still new, and already the bloodshed was weighing heavily on the masses. If ensuring that this particular disagreement be resolved as calmly as possible would prevent more of such unnecessarily violence, both the Order and the Supreme Chancellor himself agreed that it would be worthwhile to allow their enemies to live another day in exchange.

Obi-Wan's had been the first name suggested - his diplomatic prowess legendary even amongst the circle of incredibly talented Masters. Anakin's involvement had been solidified as soon as the recently christened General Kenobi voiced his assent - even since his Knighting, Anakin had yet to be sent on an dual assignment with anyone other than his former Master. They had departed later that day for the mountainous planet, prepared to act as the impartial middlemen they had been trained to be.

The discussions had, surprisingly, begun innocently enough, and were moving along rather placidly, given that little to no progress had been made. It had proven a small gathering - only a handful of advisors and senators representing the Republic, and a similar few standing for the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Then had come the accusations of treason.

Anakin hadn't been able to discern who had instigated the dangerous undercurrent of suspicion, but it had spread like the plague, lacing the conversation with a lethal distrust. The Corporate Alliance Magistrate, Passel Argente, had been targeted initially - having served in the Galactic Senate before serving on the Separatist Council left him wide open to great criticism and hostility. He quickly became defensive as a torrent of unprofessional threats and jibes were directed towards him, allowing for the savvy business fiend Shu Mai to vocally enter the debate. The Commerce Guild Presidente continued her claims that the Separatists sought only free trade and prosperous commerce, and that it was the Republic that was truly trying to stifle the ideal of free enterprise. The fiercely Loyalist Senator Ask Aak had retaliated immediately, rising to his feet and ranting about the Separatist rouges who sought to undermine the virtue of democracy. The Uyter Senator Lexi Dio followed, also voicing a strong dissension to the female Gossam's accusations. Terr Taneel also spoke in opposition to Shu Mai's claims, but her subsequent recognition of a need for reconciliation between not only the Separatists and the Republic, but also between the interests of the Republic and its members from within were drowned out by the screeching of Wat Tambor as he protested that the Techno Union would not stand for such slanderous words. The commotion continued to escalate until only one member of each party remained silent - the calculating turquoise eyes of Senator Tundra Dowmeia remained fixed entirely upon the rather uncomfortable form of the native Trade Federation lieutenant Rune Haako as he squirmed in his seat, observing the growing chaos with dismay. He was panicked, and he did not notice the Quarren's stoic gaze upon him as he reached downwards to extract something for the billowing fabric of his ensemble. Tundra rose suddenly, finally gaining the attention of the corrupt Neimoidian as he made to confront the being about his suspicious actions, yet dived unceremoniously to the floor as he was met with the most complex-looking firearm he had ever seen - one that had quickly changed targets and was now pointed most specifically at him.

The first few shots echoed hollowly, their ruby blazes illuminating the dimness of the chamber, striking light in the peripheral vision of the others, alerting them to the outbreak of armed brutality and encouraging them instantly to act accordingly. Anakin quickly noted that Obi-Wan had moved to deflect the consistent flow of blaster fire that was now not only coming from the paranoid Trade Federation representative, but also from other corners of the room, where secluded factions of enemies and associates gathered with a growing sense of hostility. And then the doors burst open.

It shouldn't have surprised anyone, really - but to the Jedi it should not have even seemed out of place, or at all unexpected. Yet it was; and as a good two-hundred battle droids stormed the hall, moving to take offensive positions while protecting the Separatist leaders, followed by enough droidekas to suppress an opposition thirty strong, both Jedi were unprepared. Obi-Wan recovered almost immediately from the shock, as was customary, fending off the now suffocatingly torrential fire that was raining down upon them, taking the risk to divide his concentration and reach for his comlink - to alert Commander Cody of this development, and deploy the Clone Battalion that had accompanied them for backup, Anakin assumed. But when the communication device was blown expertly out of the Jedi Master's hand, Anakin finally sprung into action. Retrieving his own comlink, Anakin contacted the Clone Commander and quickly requested his assistance. Assured of their expeditious arrival, he leaped over a passing battle droid, effectively decapitating it with his lightsaber as he spun above it, and landing near enough to cover Obi-Wan's back as the blaster fire intensified.

"We can't hold them off like this," Obi-Wan yelled to him over the chaotic din that was screeching about them. He was right - there was no way they could last long in their current placement with the increasing number of droids whirring around them. They had consolidated their position too inclusively, and in so had cut their odds in half. They needed to separate and tackle the enemy from opposite strongholds. Anakin moved to abandon his station, and yet Obi-Wan again reacted first. With an elegant vault over the wall of droids, he sprung towards another small group of destroyers, incapacitating their majority in one well-calculated swoop. Anakin diverted his eyes from the sight - his Master was one of the most gifted Jedi he knew; he could undoubtedly handle himself.

Sending the fire directed towards him easily back at his aggressors, Anakin was still relieved as the Clones finally broke the perimeter, entering in a wave of snowy armor, with their bleach-white blasters poised. Anakin quickly ran to meet the foremost clone trooper.

"Destroy the droids. As for the Separatists; do what you can to subdue them; do not kill them if it can be avoided."

"Understood, sir."

By this point, every servant, visiting dignitary, and a great deal of rather tenacious Neimoidians had managed to infiltrate the premises in the uproar, driven by their curiosity to follow the rather ominous sounds coming from the conference chamber. Clone Troopers quickly assimilated themselves into the fray, blasters at the ready and firing at will at the growing number of droids.

Anakin had then become most preoccupied on his own, having moved to quell the growing tumult to his right, where half the Senators in attendance had drawn their own weapons, randomly aiming their blasters in a combination of necessary defense and relief at finally being able to give in to the belligerence that had been festering within them since their arrival. Overwhelmed by numbers, however, they were hopeless against the droids now advancing upon them. Running towards them from behind, he cleared the Senators and landed to the rear of the droidekas, slashing his lightsaber through them before their shields could be activated properly.

He noted absently that the number of droid aggressors had been depleted significantly since the arrival of the Clones, and the thought of victory and the restoration of order briefly flickered through his mind.

The notion was short lived.

Had Shu Mai noted that there were civilians that would be wounded, it would have been most doubtful that she would have executed her plan. She was not aware of their presence, however, and instead acknowledged only the position of Senator Ask Aak - whom she had labeled her rival in the prior debates. Seeing an opportunity for revenge, and the sort of finality that she had a penchant for, she took aim at the corner near a towering, incredibly thick glass window overlooking the city. And all she could think of was ruining the presumptuous Gran under a pile of ruble and shards of glass as she set the small explosive to detonate on impact and heaved it towards its destination.

Obi-Wan had just finished disposing of one of the last droid clusters when he felt the disturbance within his perception of the Force, and turned sharply towards his left, taking in the figure of Ask Aak sprawled on the floor, nursing a blaster shot to his leg, and the menacing grin painted on Shu Mai's wrinkled features. He quickly ascertained what she planned to do, and broke into a dead run as the bomb left her hand. He had nearly reached his destination as the explosion took place, hurling both him and Aak against the opposite wall to the right. He heard an unsettling snap in his arm as he fell, and discovered quite quickly that he could barely move it. As he attempted to stand, it became obvious that his leg had also been injured in the blast, as it gave out on him, and he was forced to pull himself along about the floor. He could hear the cracking and eventual shattering of glass as he reached the incapacitated Senator, who was unconscious and rather bruised, but still alive. For how long, however, Obi-Wan could not be certain, given the increasing instability of the structure surrounding them. The wall they had been thrown at bordered the giant window, which was already mostly collapsed, and the immediately surrounding wall was now beginning to crumble as well in the aftermath of the blast. Suddenly, hearing the screams of numerous spectators gathered near the ensuing destruction, both Anakin and Obi-Wan turned their attention elsewhere: Obi-Wan towards the innocents, and Anakin towards Obi-Wan.

The children were only about ten yards from Obi Wan. They were terrified - of that he had no doubt. Blaster fire was still raining steadily about, and the ominous rumbling from the crackling walls soaring high above them was not misleading, and instead accurately forewarned the precarious hailstorm of debris that was beginning to fall atop its victims at random. Obi-Wan glanced momentarily above his own position, noting that the structure was somewhat more stable here than above the youths. He knew he could not reach them in his condition, leaving him only one choice.

Anakin knew that his former Master had felt the danger pooling about them - he had to have. However, Anakin was even more certain that Obi-Wan had disregarded it. The good General had never been one to sacrifice others for something that he viewed to be so trivial as his own safety. It was one thing that Anakin had never been able to accept in the man - it scared him, though he would never have admitted it. So when Obi-Wan employed a passing Clone who was attempting to evacuate the chamber to take Ask Aak to safety, he stubbornly declined the soldier's offerings to lead the Jedi away as well, and when he could be seen using the Force to hold up the part of wall that was about to cave in on top of that huddled group of children who had found their way inside, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan would ignore his own well-being until the children were safe. It was something that the younger Jedi would not allow – Obi-Wan had never recognized his own worth, had never cared at all for himself in contrast with his compassion and self-sacrificing nature in the case of others in need. Anakin would not allow this disregard to stand; he couldn't, not considering what Obi-Wan meant to him – what it would do to the young Knight to lose him…

Anakin sprung into action, beckoning the Force to support the crumbling wall above Obi-Wan as he ran towards him. He would reach him, and get him out of this mess. He would save him. There was no other option he was willing to consider.

And then everything went to Hell.

Neither Jedi had been very mindful of the still-continuous stream of blaster fire that was still being exchanged about them, and in truth neither would have minded greatly taking a hit if had come to it. Anakin felt the first shot impact his shoulder, and it brought pain, to be sure – he could feel the warm trickle of crimson saturate his garments at consistent intervals as he continued on – but it was not pressing. It was not fatal, and therefore time could continue at its unwieldy pace. Yet reality finally seemed to slow as Anakin witnessed each of what he counted, with excruciating accuracy, to be five blaster bolts ripping through Obi-Wan's flesh, wracking his already doubled-over form. The Jedi Master shook for a moment, obviously struggling to remain upright and focused on his task of maintaining what little stability the structure about himself and the youths retained. Meanwhile Anakin remained motionless, unable to uproot himself from his awkward position as he stared on at the unfolding events with increasing horror.

His inaction would be something that, in hindsight, he would regret more than he could ever express in words.

Obi-Wan fell forward, as if gravity had suddenly released its hold upon him, and he had entered a sort of miniature free-fall from the knees. Anakin felt the pain surge through his Master's body through their remaining bond, yet it was obscure – vague; covered in a thick blanket of reluctant resignation, and an overwhelming sense of failure. As the Jedi Master hit the ground, the presence Anakin had become so infinitely accustomed to slipped away from his mind, and the Force seemed strangely foreign to him with Obi-Wan Kenobi's wondrous light to be found within it. His heart began to pound frantically in his throat in a seeming protest to the scene before his eyes.

The increasingly consistent tinkling of jagged pieces of glass across the polished stone floors faded slowly until it could no longer be heard. The clouds of dust settled after countless, agonizing moments and the air cleared - now bereft of both the debris and the screams. Tears sprang to Anakin's eyes as his gaze fell upon the figure of his motionless Master, covered at intervals with oddly shaped, though massive chunks of rubble. He wanted – needed – to go to him; to take in the damage and tend to him. He needed to be near Obi-Wan – his Obi-Wan – now more than ever before. Yet the blackness, brought about by his own injury, that had been lingering furtively at very edges of his mind had become immediately more audacious, and as a single teardrop fell from his long lashes, trailing a path down his grimy cheek, unconsciousness overcame him and he knew nothing more.


	2. Chapter One: Association

**Title**: Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Mine? Ha; I wish.

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** Here's the first official chapter. Thank you ever so much to the reviewers for the prologue; you all truly made my day:

**Mo Angel**,** ManniElf18**,and** Alley Parker** – Thank you _so_ very much, and I hope you enjoy.

**i luv ewansmile** – Thank you very, very much! I'll see what I can do about those lengthy paragraphs (I triedto cut down here…) and as for the first part being a bit impersonal for your tastes, I think that you can expect a steadily increasing amount of personal, emotional input from both Anakin and Obi-Wan's perspectives in the future – I simply adore writing it.

**lil-kenobi-greenleaf** – Thanks. Indeed, Possessive!Anakin and Hurt!Obi-Wan are two of my favorite things. Along with Obi Plushies… ;)

As this is the first real chapter, we now get into the flashback/present juxtaposition style. I hope it's not too confusing… I meant for it to relate one story to another, and offer explanation and history. Please let me know what you think.

As always, reviews are appreciated immensely. Enjoy :D

- EsotericCrimson

* * *

**Chapter One: Association**

"_The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi; I promise."_

_Anakin regrets that he does not remember any of the words that the young man had spoken to him prior to that silently devastating evening before the funeral pyre. More so, however, he regrets not saying anything in reply. No thank you, no expression of gratitude, not even a murmur to indicate his attention or his comprehension. In looking back, not falling prostrate before the very man who had, in that singular moment, preserved and fulfilled every one of the desires harbored within his young heart, worshiping the ground he walked upon and praising his graciousness; not devoting himself to the will and teachings of this Jedi on the spot remained one of the most prominent mistakes of his childhood._

_Instead, he had remained silent, mulling over the loss of his mother and now his mentor, however newly acquired such guidance may have been, and thoroughly ignoring whatever positivity may have been derived from his gaining of a skilled young master, a position to train in the Jedi arts, a life free from slavery and oppression… all of which he had always dreamed of, but never expected to occur. He did not see, at all at the time, what a gift he had been given in his apprenticeship to Obi-Wan Kenobi, and it would be years before he would recognize the true value of his treasure of a master. Regardless, as a child, he brooded, and his new guardian seemed not to notice, nor care._

_The ceremony passed in a whirlwind of unvoiced sadness, for the most part. Regret seemed as a tangible fog, settling upon the proceedings, and threatening to suffocate them all. Anakin wanted to be attentive, but his mind could not focus on anything but the trail of smoke rising higher and higher into the heavens. When all was said and done, he followed a royal guard, one he did not recognize by name or face, to a lavishly decorated bedchamber within the palace, leaving him to his own devices while his new Master conferred with the Jedi Council members, presumably concerning Qui-Gon's passing and Anakin himself. _

_Still feeling slightly out-of-sorts, the recently-appointed Padawan learned sighed deeply, flinging himself carelessly upon the bed at the center of the room, falling heavily on the deep sapphire silk of the bedding. He was overwhelmed by a deep sense of neglect; he could not properly recall the last time he had been all alone, and left to his own thoughts. It was not nearly as liberating as he had hoped._

_Sitting up and crossing his legs on the soft mattress, he closed his eyes and concentrated upon calling forth the image of the late Master Jinn, sitting laxly in a state of complete serenity, hands resting lightly upon his elevated knees as he seemed to enter an enlightening trace. It appeared to Anakin that the meditative state that he had witnessed Qui-Gon in so often while on Tatooine was a practice of all proper Jedi. And if Jedi were meant to meditate, then he would learn the art and master it to perfection._

_He had reference as to the physical positions, and mimicked it as best he could. As for the psychological mindset, however, he could only suppose. He figured that clearing his mind and following his instincts was probably best, as Qui-Gon had instructed him to do in his first victorious podrace. He breathed deeply, drawing his concentration and focusing it on obtaining that immense calm he had witnessed from the late Jedi Master. He was very near obtaining, or so he believed – his mind seemed tranquil and lucid – when he began to see proof that his consciousness was not nearly as clear and empty as he had convinced himself it was. _

_First he saw his home planet, Tatooine. It was as sandy as ever, of course, but something had changed. There was a man, sturdily built and medium height, walking towards the familiar silhouette of a woman. Her dark hair blew in the evening breeze as twilight descended upon the pair slowly, the dual sunset creeping further and further into oblivion, descending to melt into the horizon with every passing moment. Anakin knew her instantaneously – but why was she there? To all appearances, it looked to be a moisture farm. Why was she not at home?_

_Shmi Skywalker turned abruptly as she seemed to notice the man's approached, bowing her head slightly, her lips moving in what appeared, from her expression, to be some sort of explanation as to her being outdoors. The man nodded slowly, his large, callused hand coming to her chin and tilting it upwards, his face approaching hers, their lips locking, at first tentatively in askance, and then with an awkward fervor and something akin to relief. Two sets of arms curled around two now-very-close bodies, and Anakin's last view of the pair was overwhelmed by his mother's smile._

_He then saw the Queen. Padmé. Amidala. Whoever she was, really – he was still somewhat put off by the deception, however essential it may have been. She was beautiful, of course. Most females were beautiful in some sense, he imagined – it was in the way they bore themselves, with dignity and grace. Yet, the more he pondered upon it, he did not believe that she was an angel any longer. No, she was a human – undoubtedly so. And as he witnessed her upon a strange bed, stomach swollen with the life dwelling within, dressed in fine silks and jewels, yet bare of the elaborate headdresses and maquillage of her monarchial standing, he knew for certain she was but a mortal woman. It appeared that the years would treat her most kindly, and however many had passed, things had not changed drastically from the present, if what was being presented to Anakin's mind was any indication._

_She appeared to be on Coruscant, or a similar planet, if there were any in the galaxy. She was watching the sunlight fade into the horizon, golden rays gilded in violets and scarlets dancing across her features, and accentuating the tears that stained her porcelain countenance as her hand rested protectively over her abdomen. Her eyes lifted to a figure in the shadows, and her lips moved, though Anakin could not discern her bitter words. The figure, a man who could only have been a handful of years her senior, of dark features and complexion and a stately, regal bearing, stepped forward slowly, seating himself on the bedset beside the fragile-looking woman, placing one arm about her shoulders, drawing her to him, and the other to rest atop the hand that held her stomach. He kissed her forehead lovingly, reassuringly, and she nuzzled warmly into his embrace._

_For but a moment, the scene changed, where the dark man was replaced by a tall, bear-chested young male, with soft blonde curls, a robotic arm which was draped about Padmé's shoulders, and a familiarity that Anakin could not deny. But as quickly as the vision had been transformed it returned to its original state, and the professional-looking man with the short, dark hair, the kindly eyes, and two flesh hands was seated beside the Queen, and Anakin had to wonder whether he had actually seen the change at all._

_And then the images were altered again. _

_The atmosphere was dark and smoke-clouded this time. Lava flowed freely about the scenery from the pits and volcanoes that littered the landscape. The very air felt ominous._

_Anakin was frightened by it. It was too portentous for his liking, and he wanted to leave._

_There were two figures – a dark one and a light one. Men, from the way they appeared. The dark one was angry, tense – he appeared tormented and hateful – vengeful. He scared Anakin, even from afar. The power he radiated was corrupt and dangerous. The man himself was dangerous. _

_The light figure, too, was powerful, but in a different sense. His power shined brightly as a beacon of good. He sought to provide protection and safety, and he gleamed with compassion and serenity. The two were like opposite ends of the spectrum brought to stand beside each other – the other's antithesis. _

_He viewed the confrontation of the two figures from a distance, and when he saw their blue lightsabers activate in tandem, he felt that something awful was about to happen._

_He was right._

_The engagement of the pair in fierce combat was not lengthy, but it was mesmerizing nonetheless. Their speed, and their immensely accurate anticipation of one another's actions – it was as if they weren't actually fighting at all, but dancing – an intimate, fiery, passionately graceful production that belied emotions that had lain dormant for years._

_The culmination was thrilling for a second – the light figure had obtained the high ground and the dark figure was resentful. He leaped, and then fell, legless, from the air, as a bird in flight that suddenly found itself lacking wings or feathers. The regret that filled the air was palpable as the light figure withdrew his sapphire blade._

_The dark man slipped, further and further down the slope of ash and obsidian, finally reaching the scorching pit of lava that awaited below him. Panic alighted upon his features, riding the coattails of a hatred that burned perhaps even more violently than the molten rock flowing beyond. At first glance, it appeared to be a loathing of the light man – of course the dark man would be angry that he had cut off his limbs. Yet, when he studied him further, Anakin realized that the dark man directed the hatred back towards himself. _

_And Anakin felt it – the self-loathing. It was painful, wracking, and all consuming. He didn't understand – he didn't even know these people; how could the dark man hate him so much if they had never met?_

_The pain Anakin felt continued to intensify as the dark man fell further into that fervid river. Agonizing, blinding, white-hot torment cut through him, and as hard as he tried, the suffering became too much, and he could not keep a desperate cry from escaping his lips. The scream scorched his throat as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to his knees, plummeting further and further, down…_

_"Anakin?" _

_A distant voice. But one he knew._

_"Anakin…" _

_Closer this time…_

_"Anakin!" _

_He felt hands grab him and shake him, and his eyes flew open to meet the greenish blue ones of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was back in the bedchamber. The visions were over. He sighed in relief._

_"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan appeared emotionally charged; Anakin couldn't tell whether it was concern or anger that spurred him as he gripped the boy's shoulders and shook him lightly once more for a response._

_"Uh-huh," Anakin replied dazedly. He was alright – now. _

_"You should not have done that." The rebuke was half-hearted and distracted – Obi-Wan did not even meet his eyes as he said it, focusing instead upon his now folded hands. _

_"You do." _

_Obi-Wan looked up, but still would not seek out Anakin's gaze. He zeroed in on the wall opposite him. "Because I have learned the proper manner in which to do so. You haven't."_

_"That's not my fault!" Anakin argued in agitated indignation, partially due to his shaken mental state, but mostly because he couldn't stand the feeling of inadequacy that rose within him at Obi-Wan's words. It was too much like what he had felt from the dark man – too much like hate, for himself. _

_"I didn't say that it was," The Jedi Knight whispered, an undertone of comfort resonating in the words. Anakin's anger was instantly abated. _

_"Can… can you show me? The right way?" He asked, almost timidly._

_The new Jedi Knight was silent for a moment, before he turned to Anakin, locking eyes with the boy as he spoke. Mutual waves of uncertainty, doubt, frustration, and fear passed between them, but above all things, a sense of blinding, foolish hope was shared between the two._

_It was that hope that answered when Obi-Wan smiled deferentially and nodded gently as he softly replied:_

"_Of course."_

* * *

Anakin opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of a sleep that lasted longer than it should have. Hours, days, weeks even? He couldn't be certain. Where was he, anyway? It looked familiar; the cream-colored walls accentuated with chestnut tones and lined with a deep, almost shimmering cinnamon shade. He knew this room well – why could he not place it?

"It is wonderful to see you among the living once more, Knight Skywalker," a low, friendly voice wafted over to him from the door of the chamber.

The décor of the room. The scent of antiseptics and herbs. The soft, calming sounds coming from beyond the walls that confined him. The uncharacteristically comfortable standard-sized bed. The Jedi Master standing in his doorway.

Suddenly everything clicked.

He was on Coruscant. At The Jedi Temple. In The Healers' Ward.

"Master Unduli," he spoke from cracked lips, his voice rough from lack of use. He attempted to sit himself upright, but was met with frustration as the Mirialan Jedi Luminara Unduli gently pushed him back.

"How are you feeling?" Luminara asked softly, taking a seat near the end of his bed.

"Fair enough, I suppose. How long have I been here?"

She shrugged. "Four days. Not quite up to your usual week-long standards, but I suppose one can't always be at the top of one's game."

Anakin grinned ruefully, and chuckled gently at the light humor that danced across the Healer's lips. He was surprised when his laughter caused him pain in his chest area. He quickly reined his mirth, his eyes darkening as he incredulously rubbed the sore area, trying to recall exactly why he was here. He could see the battle in his mind, he could relive the negotiations proceeding it, and could recollect injury, and pain… He closed his eyes and tried to regain his focus.

"You were wounded, Anakin," Luminara's soothing voice floated to his ears once more. "We've kept you on a number of very powerful medications in order to expedite the Healing process – you lost a great deal of blood before you were rescued, you know." She pause briefly, sighing deeply as she plunged forth, "Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded, of course he remembered…

"Obi-Wan?" The words were nothing more than an urgent whisper, his cerulean eyes, filled with a dread he'd never felt before and she'd never witnessed before, searched for something, _anything_, in her bright sapphire orbs; just a hint that his Master was alright…

When the normally bold and straightforward Master Healer diverted her gaze to the floor, he knew. His heart stopped for only a moment, before breaking entirely. He trembled; his breath catching violently, lungs burning as he abandoned the effort of breathing. It wasn't important – not now.

"I would have known… he can't be…I must see him," Anakin fumbled desperately with his words, searching the Force for Obi-Wan's presence as he spoke, praying that he would find him, somewhere…

"He's still alive, Anakin. His injuries are severe, but he lives yet. His spirit is stronger than most, it has sustained him thus far."

Anakin let out the breath he had been holding, gasping for air as he tried to stand. He had to find Obi-Wan, to see him, to be certain that he was alive, to care for him.

"I can't let you go to him yet, Anakin. You are still recovering, and he is in no condition for visitors of any kind."

"I must be with him," Anakin growled with less force that was normal for the emotional young man; his grief and worry dampening his rage.

Luminara evaluated the Knight before her, looking past the hard, determined, and rage-infused exterior and seeing for perhaps the first time who Anakin Skywalker truly was.

She was taken aback at the revelation.

He was only a child. And he was scared. No – he was petrified: petrified of losing the one man he cared about with all that he was.

The one man he cared about all too much.

The one man he simply could not live without.

No words were spoken, but Luminara understood perfectly, and as she saw the despair began to accumulate in Anakin's glistening eyes in the form of hot tears, she acted solely on impulse and leaned forward, her long arms wrapping gracefully about the crumpled form of the young man.

For one so strong and dauntless, it seemed that the Hero With No Fear was the most fearful of them all.

"He lives yet," he heard her repeat into his hair as her arms tightened about him, and he relaxed, however slightly into her embrace.

"He lives yet, Anakin. Beyond all reason or explanation, he lives yet."

And his broken heart, for only a moment, considered beating once again.


	3. Chapter Two: Braided

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Mine? Ha; I wish.

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** This chapter was one of the first I wrote for this fic – it was going to be a standalone, but I decided to change directions. Just a little interlude I felt the need to write, that I morphed into a chapter of this particular piece. Sort of transitory, really, but it serves its purpose in the end. Plus it's rather angsty and emotional, which are two themes I always enjoy writing about.

Thanks to the Chapter One reviewers -

**Anakin's Girl 4eva** – Thanks for the review – I hope this was quick enough for your liking, though I had intended this update to be sooner.

**Viva-la-Resistance** – I'm not certain how your 'Oh' was meant, exactly, but I do appreciate your review, and most of all, the fact that you read the fic, so thank you :D

**Ewan007** – I am happy that you've enjoyed it thus far – I hope you continue to!

**lil-kenobi-greenleaf** – Thanks so much, not only for your kind review, but also for coming back again to read :D

Again, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please don't forget to review!

- EsotericCrimson

* * *

**Chapter Two: Braided**

_"No."_

_The single word was not angry, nor challenging - it was stated simply as an answer. Unfortunately, the statement it was made in response to was not a question._

_"This isn't a request, Padawan. It's a requirement, and you will fulfil it."_

_"But I don't want to."_

_"But you will. It's not as if it's a difficult obligation, Anakin. In fact, you don't have to do anything but consent." _

"_I don't want to, though," the boy reiterated. He'd been a Jedi for all of four days. He saw this as a rather weighty thing to ask of him after so little time. _

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, felt that he had given the boy plenty of leeway on the matter. In any other case, it would have been done immediately. No – in any other case, it would not have needed to be done, as it wouldn't have been allowed to happen in the first place. Younglings were brought to the Temple so early in their lives that they had little to no recollection of their parents or their homeworlds, let alone the appearances and customs of their people. They were groomed to be Jedi from the beginning.

_As he could not bring himself to bridge the gap from exasperation to irritation, Obi-Wan sighed as he attempted yet again to reason with his newly appointed apprentice. "It's hair Anakin. It will grow back." _

"_Where's your braid?" the boy asked suddenly. _

"_What?"_

"_The braid," Anakin pulled on a strand of his own lengthy hair, following it to an imaginary elongation for emphasis. _

"_It's a Padawan braid. It is severed at Knighthood, as is the Master-Padawan bond," Obi-Wan concentrated carefully on keeping the emotion from his voice, but his apprentice still detected the thickness of his words. _

"_Why would that happen?"_

"_It's symbolic, really," Obi-Wan said softly. "The braid is adorned vaguely with given beads and wrappings, to mark the achievements of a given apprentice. Yet, when you become a Knight, and take that step towards independence in following the will of the Force, you need no longer depend in any way upon the victories and defeats of the past. A clean slate, of sorts."_

"_I…" Anakin seemed hesitant to continue with his inquiry. _

"_What is it?" Obi-Wan was impassive in his question, yet an underlying combination of impatience overpowered by concern laced the utterance._

"_I, I meant the bond. Why is the bond severed?"_

_Obi-Wan was taken aback for only a moment. He had never experienced the voluntary detachment of the intimate bond shared between a Master and Apprentice, only the forcible, soul-wrenching loss of his connection with the only father figure he had ever known. While his misgivings of the boy before him had lessened somewhat since they had first been introduced, they were by no means nonexistent. He highly doubted that the bond he would share with his apprentice would be an exceptionally strong one, but… if given the benefit of the doubt, they did form a powerful bond, what would if feel like to consent to be rid of it? To know, fully, that you were relinquishing that connection, and to do so without question? Without reservations? Obi-Wan was unsure he would ever have been capable of breaking his bond with Qui-Gon in such a manner. Why else would he have chosen to remain a Padawan learner for so long, when he could easily have proven himself years ago as prepared enough to face the trials?_

"_I suppose… the bond represents… attachment. As a Padawan, it is frowned upon, but allowed as a necessity for the young psyche. Yet, as a Knight, it can mean the difference between life and death. It's not something that can be allowed to cause deviation from one's duty."_

_Anakin was silent for a moment, taking in the somewhat short and unconvincing explanation, interpreting it and mulling it over. Seemingly satisfied with his analysis, he posed another question._

"_Do you believe that?"_

"_I believe in the Code. That is why I follow it, and have devoted my life in service to what it stands for."_

"_But that wasn't my question," Anakin teetered dangerously upon the line dividing innocent curiosity and impudence. "Do you believe that attachment is dangerous? That… that feelings aren't important? That loving someone, and caring for them – that that's wrong?"_

_Obi-Wan was momentarily stunned by the passion in the child's words. It sparked something unknown and unsought for in his own being, some semblance of selfish need and want, an ardency of his own that he'd never felt before, perhaps only because he hadn't allowed himself to. It was warm, and all-consuming; inviting him to ascend into an entirely new state of existence, transcending the lackluster of the here and now and arriving in a place where he was free of restraint, and able to act as he felt most inclined to, without fear of rebuke. _

_It began to spread through him, taking over his body first, silent but lethal, seeming to erase his carefully cultivated self-control, the very restriction he had spent so long trying to perfect – this whirlwind of parsimonious feeling obliterated it without difficulty – it was too powerful to be quelled as it began next to take over his mind. This was even more troublesome, to be sure, as his resolve was well known. He fought it only briefly, however – this time by choice – for even the most determined sentient being cannot resist the siren song of savoring raw, unadulterated emotion. His mind conquered, the wave of love, hatred, longing, jealousy, grief, ecstasy, wonder, frustration, and every other emotion that he felt with crystalline clarity, but had never heard a name put to, began wearing systematically away at the last reserve of his honed Jedi lifestyle. Coincidentally, it was that last barrier that was, and always had been, Obi-Wan Kenobi's greatest strength, and sometimes, simultaneously, and unknown to the world around him, his greatest weakness: that passionate array of feeling began to worm its way into his very heart and soul. _

_He felt the emotions begin to creep up within him once more, synchronizing themselves with the very beating of his heart, intoxicating him thoroughly with each pulsation – pain, pleasure, envy, heartache, loss, gain, power, weakness, loneliness, invigoration, companionship – each coursing through his veins in ways in which he'd never imagined possible. It was beautiful, and frightening, and awe-inspiring…_

_And oh-so-very wrong._

_He stopped himself abruptly, allowing all of those newly adapted emotions to flow freely as he released them into the Force; these things he had experienced vaguely before, but never for himself, were now gone from his immediate consciousness. They were in the past now, left for him to reflect properly upon when he was safely removed from the encounter. _

_But, deep in his heart, he knew that he wanted desperately to feel them again, someday. And indeed, to allow those emotions to bloom fully within him, to be able to express them accurately to the person they were aimed towards; to feel was any normal human being was meant to feel – that remained the single, most frantic desire he kept locked secretly within his soul for years to come. _

"_It's time that you saw to the length of your hair, Padawan."_

_Anakin was silent _

_"Did you keep it?"_

_"Keep what?"_

_"The braid. Your Padawan braid."_

"It is tradition to keep it, yes. Then again, it is tradition that the Master cut his Padawan's plait. I planned to remove my own, but it was Master Yoda, in the end, who trimmed it," Obi-Wan's hands instinctively went to his hair, as he played with the small tuft of what was left of the intricate twist of hair. His palms trembled slightly as he continued. "I did keep it," he paused, wondering why he, being a relatively closed-off person when it came to sharing his own personal business, was willingly divulging such things to this boy whom he barely knew, and didn't quite yet trust.

"_I did keep it," he continued, "But I mean to be rid of it soon enough. It is unimportant, and it serves only to remind me of the past, which is something I must endeavor to overcome with all haste."_

"_But you said it was tradition," Anakin interjected in protest, not understanding why Obi-Wan planned to be rid of the symbolic strand._

"_At times, even tradition is outmoded, my young apprentice. At times, it is better to blaze one's own path, when it hurts none to do so."_

"_It won't hurt you?" Anakin queried, disbelief evident in his tone._

"_It hurts me more to recall what it meant, so soon after," Obi-Wan spoke with a simple finality, having had his share of the conversation, and then some._

_Anakin seemed to struggle with his next words, a fact that Obi-Wan noted but did not respond to in the slightest. When the boy finally did manage to begin to speak, his Master remained impassive._

"_Would it hurt you… if I wore it?"_

"_What?" Obi-Wan turned sharply, his eyes narrowed at the child as if he had asked to claim a star system as his own._

"_Well, from what you've said, every Padawan needs a braid, right? And my hair might be lengthy now, but even so it wouldn't make a good one. It wouldn't be long enough. So, if you don't want it, and if it doesn't mean anything to you, maybe I could have it? To use, until I can grow my own?"_

_Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. The boy's audacity was to be admired, but it was unthinkably unbecoming of a Jedi. As for the braid itself…_

"_We shall see," were the newly ordained Knight's only words to his Padawan as he rose silently and left the room, presumably to ponder the conversation he had just concluded in privacy. Anakin sighed heavily as he heard the door close behind Obi-Wan. Only days into his career as a Jedi, and he was already bothering his Master. He knew he couldn't continue to do so if he wished to remain Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprentice, or anyone's apprentice, for that matter._

Moving to the sleep area of their quarters on Naboo, Anakin threw himself resignedly upon the bed, burrowing his face in a pillow as he kicked the down mattress in frustration. Flipping himself upon his side, he found a string of metallic silver that had been loosed from the detailed embroidery of the coverlet, and immediately began to finger it nervously.

_His eyes strayed about the room, drinking in his surroundings as he had done numerous times since their arrival, but at this point not truly seeing the room about him any longer, as he knew it intimately by now. Yet, as his glances focused to his right, there was something there that caught his eyes – something he'd never noticed before. Something that had not _been_ there before. _

_Anakin saw the braid laying on the small nightstand in their shared temporary quarters; he hadn't noticed it previously. He saw that it was just as it had been before the blade had removed it – long, tightly coiled, and well-kept. Yet the tiny assortment of adorning beads and wraps that held the braid at its end had all been unceremoniously removed, exposing more of the light auburn hair. The only color upon the twist was a small, sphere-shaped bead of the most deep and stunning azure. Anakin reached out hesitantly, looking about him to ensure that the room was vacated still, and fingered the glassy orb with a reverence he didn't quite understand. He noticed next that the topmost strands of the plait had been frayed out dexterously, and had skillfully been separated once more into the triad of thicker threads that would serve to attach it to the stub of another braid. Enough of the hair was undone in such a manner to ensure a secure bond to the scalp of another while still maintaining an appropriate length; one which Anakin could be proud of when he arrived at the Temple and began his formal training. One which no other Padawan Learner could even fathom mocking or questioning. _

_And suddenly, the implications of all of this hit him with the very weight of a Hutt. _

_For all his outward indications otherwise, Obi-Wan had meant for Anakin to have the precious braid all along._

* * *

"I want to go to him."

Luminara was in a predicament – and for a Master of her caliber to admit to that was nothing short of shocking. She tried to deny that Anakin's relentless pleas to see Obi-Wan hadn't affected her better judgement, but the charade was short lived. His passionate entreaties, and their ceaseless nature, were beginning to wear upon her resolve.

Besides, it wasn't as if she reveled in either man's suffering. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"He is not well, Anakin. Neither are you, for that matter." It was a spineless response, she knew – but it was the only one she felt fit to provide, given the circumstances.

"I am fine. And if Obi-Wan is unwell, then that's all the more reason why I should be with him."

"He isn't awake."

Anakin shook his head fervently. "That is irrelevant."

Luminara sighed. She knew that, at this point, Anakin could only do good for Obi-Wan. There was little room for worsening in the Jedi Master's condition, and the will of the Force would prevail regardless of Anakin's absence or presence. Yet the effect that seeing Obi-Wan in such a state might have upon the young Knight was one that pained her greatly to consider.

"He could pass into the Force at any time, Anakin. You must be prepared for that."

Anakin swallowed audibly, and Luminara did not fail to note the tears that welled in his eyes as he cast his gaze downwards.

"I understand," the tremulous whisper came in reply.

"Come, then. I'll take you to his room." With that, the graceful Healer rose and moved towards the door, turning back as she reached the exit and throwing Anakin a meaningful glance as she beckoned him to follow with all haste.

He did not hesitate.


	4. Chapter Three: Callous

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Mine? Ha; I wish.

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** Thanks to the Chapter Two reviewers -

**Anakin's Girl 4eva** – Thank you :D The next update should be relatively quick, given that I might get some spare time over the holidays :D

**TenshiSakuraTakai** – Thank you so much for your amazing comments; you made me smile. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much; it's a bit more choppy, but I wanted to convey the small story line without it getting too long, so I tried to make it flow as much as possible.

**i luv ewansmile** – Thanks again :D

**rlturner79** – Thank you; and I am so glad you mentioned the past/present style I've been using, I was afraid it might get confusing. I am incredibly glad that you liked it.

**Padfoot Reincarnated** – Thanks; I am very glad you liked it. And I love your penname, by the way.

Enjoy, and please review. Happy Holidays, Everyone :D

- EsotericCrimson

* * *

**Chapter Three: Callous**

_It was a very special day. Anakin had been looking forward to it for ages, though he hadn't spoken on the topic. No one else ever did, and he thought that perhaps it was wrong, or frowned upon, to do so. He had considered mentioning it to Obi-Wan, for he had come to like his Master more and more over the course of the months they had spent at the Temple, but thought better of it. The elder Jedi was still somewhat stoic and distant towards his apprentice, and Anakin did not wish to make the situation any worse._

_But Anakin had decided that this was simply his way. That Obi-Wan was just a closed off type of person, and it had nothing to do with Anakin personally. Nothing at all._

_It hurt less to live with that delusion than to think that his Master simply despised him. _

_That was what bothered him the most, in all actuality – the idea that Obi-Wan might just hate him, resent him, for simply being Anakin Skywalker, an inept Padawan learner, an annoying pre-adolescent, and a general burden upon his day-to-day life._

_He wouldn't have minded so much, really, if just anyone had felt that way about him. But if Obi-Wan felt that way about him… that as something else entirely. _

_Because Obi-Wan mattered. More than anyone else._

_Thinking these thoughts, as he tended to do regularly, he awoke earlier that morning than he was accustomed, so excited was he that today was indeed the day. He wondered if anyone would acknowledge it, if anyone would know besides him. He expected not, and tried to convince himself that it didn't matter if anyone else congratulated him – he knew, and that was enough._

_After all, it wasn't every day that a boy turned eleven._

_But he knew, deep down, that if Obi-Wan remembered, it would be more than just a birthday to Anakin. It would be something worth remembering his entire life._

_It would mean that maybe – just maybe – Obi-Wan cared about him, as Anakin had come to care for his Master._

* * *

_Obi-Wan had sensed Anakin stirring in his room at that early hour. He had been brewing tea in their small, yet functional kitchenette when his young Padawan had awoken, his excitement radiating through the Force and acting as explanation for his uncharacteristically early rising. _

_Obi-Wan smiled softly as he felt the emotional thrill vibrating through their shared quarters and permeating the air that circulated through the rooms. The serene grin only grew as he lifted the mug he held to his lips and sipped at the uniquely strong brew that was steadily cooling within. _

_He knew, of course, why Anakin was so ecstatic this particular morning, though he would never have voiced his knowledge before now, and knew that the boy would not broach the subject if he was not prompted to. _

_Today was the anniversary of Anakin Skywalker's birth, and given Obi-Wan's occasional intuitive prowess, accompanied by sheer talents in the fields of observation and pure logic, he would venture that the boy was turning eleven. _

_Obi-Wan smiled serenely as he contemplated the excitement that permeated their quarters, wondering at its volume in relation to its stimulus. In all honesty, Obi-Wan could remember only three birthdays he had celebrated in all his nearly 27 years. _

_The first was when he was very young – there was a sort of communal celebration of the Younglings' ascent from one level of general training to a more rigorous one. He could not have been any more than five or six, if his memory served him faithfully. He recalled simple recognition of achievement, a sweet orange-colored drink that he'd never before sampled, and an introduction to a number of eminent Jedi personalities he'd never met before. In particular, he remembered seeing Mace Windu and Oppo Rancisis for the very first time. _

_The second was his fourteenth birthday, and one that he remembered with much more clarity. It wasn't long after Qui-Gon had taken him as his apprentice, and their relationship was still very tumultuous. Obi-Wan felt that with even the slightest mistake or miscalculation, he would be cast from the Jedi Master's tutelage, and Qui Gon himself exuded a certain muted sense of constant distaste for his Padawan Learner, that, while it had been stifled with time, had never ceased to torment the young Padawan in his care. Yet it was on that particular birthday that those feelings of apprehension began to abate, as Qui-Gon hesitantly recognized the event with a small, yet extraordinarily meaningful gift. _

_The third…_

_Obi-Wan sighed deeply, taking another drink of his tea, this time slowl,y taking the time to savor the blend of herbs and spices that assaulted his taste buds as the tepid liquid traveled back towards his throat, warming him as he swallowed. He licked his lips in thought, lapping gracefully away any trace of the beverage, though there was no guest present to warrant such a social nicety so early in the morning. _

_The third birthday he recalled was his seventeenth, and it brought him to a juncture of great emotional conflict. He smiled at the fond memories the day brought him, yet fought the tightness in his chest and the dryness in his mouth as tear pricked his eyes at the pain that accompanied the distant recollections. _

_He breathed deeply, having resolved some time ago that depressing reminiscing should be reserved for after sunrise, and released the offending feelings into the Force with relief. The present was most important now. The present was what mattered._

_Speaking of the _present_…_

_Today was, indeed, his Padawan's birthday. He meant to give Anakin a gift for the occasion. And he was uncertain that the small token he had planned to bestow upon the boy was a proper favor._

_Obi-Wan could still feel the joy that had ransacked his being when Qui-Gon, his seemingly callous and resentful Master, had given him the beautifully carved stone collected from the sages on Triton on the eve of his fourteenth birthday. It had been an awkward exchange, he remembered, but the Jedi Master had displayed, beyond any doubt, that he cared for the young man in his charge, and for the first time he could remember, Obi-Wan had felt truly loved. He'd never known the love of a blood relation, such as a mother or father, and while the Jedi were his family without question, he knew that the relationship between a Master and a Padawan was something sacred, something to be revered. And in that instant as he accepted the treasure with Qui-Gon's solemn whispers of its origins and significance, he felt all of the insecurity of his apprenticeship melt away, and finally knew that he was where he belonged. It was a feeling that even now managed to get him through the more difficult days with his own young charge._

_He wanted that for Anakin. He wanted to express to the boy what he couldn't bring himself to say – that the young man mattered to him, that he was important, and that Obi-Wan was proud of his progress. That he wasn't a burden or an obligation to the older Jedi. Given the strange and complicated circumstances that had led to their partnership, Obi-Wan knew that their relationship with tremulous. Anakin thought and acted in ways very unbefitting of a Jedi at times, due to his upbringing outside of the Temple, and Obi-Wan did not know how to properly fulfil the boy's unique requirements. There was tension, and there was frustration, but Obi-Wan wanted to convey once and for all to his Padawan that, through it all, he cared for him. _

_And so the only appropriate gift he could think of was the same stylized gemstone that Qui-Gon had given him so many years ago._

_Obi-Wan toyed with the rock, smoothing it over the pads of his fingers as he drifted into a state of deep contemplation, bringing his tea to his mouth again and drinking deeply. _

* * *

_Anakin left his room some hours later, after passing the time in the dark in order to avoid suspicion at his early rising. He found the small apartment empty, a fact that disappointed him greatly, but the delectable sent that wafted from the kitchen area tempted him to continue forth and ascertain its origin._

_He found a plate of fresh berries with pancakes, and the bread that Obi-Wan sometimes made that looked similar to a dew cake that he liked so much, with a dollop of rich cream to the side and a cup of Hot Chocolate. It was a collection of edible treats he had never been able to indulge in all at once before, and he was anxious to inhale the foods before him with all haste. _

_Before doing so, however, he saw the note upon the table near his breakfast tray, weighted down by a gorgeous gem of the most vibrant jade color. It was etched with numerous symbols and characters, appearing as a tribal emblem of some sort as he turned it in his hands, studying its intricacies with fascination, and recognizing the strangely significant aura it exuded in the Force. Finally, he replaced the stone and picked up the letter. _

_**Anakin,**_

_**Happy Birthday. I am sorry to have had to leave so early, but the Council wished to speak to me about our upcoming mission, and I was requested to meet with them immediately. Enjoy your breakfast, but make certain you are on time for your classes.** _

Just like Obi-Wan_, thought Anakin fondly of his very proper and by-the-books Master as he continued to read - _

**_This was a gift from my Master to me some years ago – a ritual stone from the Tritonite Sages, meant to be carved to promote serenity and provide protection. I thought it most appropriate; perhaps someday you'll see why._**

****

_The note was unsigned, but Anakin didn't need the formality. He knew, and that was enough._

* * *

'_This isn't happening; this isn't happening…'_ He repeated the mantra to himself, the words resonating hollowly upon the walls of his mind, as if even in his own imagination he could not wish the painful truth away. He fingered the emerald Tritonite slab that hung around his neck from a worn leather cord, hoping that the familiar stone would give him the strength to deal with his surroundings.

As Anakin looked on at his ailing Master, lying motionless upon the bed in the Healers Ward, his Life Force slight and almost nonexistent, he could not keep the tears from his eyes. He could not fathom how his legs had supported him as he crossed the room to Obi-Wan's bedside, his eyes never leaving the unnaturally frail-looking form of the man before him.

He dropped helplessly to his knees, trembling as he hit the cold, unforgiving tile floor. One hand shot out shakily to ghost along Obi-Wan's jawbone, and when the skin his fingertips encountered was frigid and waxen, the tremors only intensified. The young Knight squeezed his eyes tightly shut, unable to face the reality before him, and absolutely unwilling to accept it as truth.

"This isn't happening…" Anakin whispered desperately into Obi-Wan's palm as he brought the unconscious man's hand to his cheek, clutching his wrist as if in doing so, he could tether the Jedi Master's soul to the world of the living.

"This isn't happening…"


	5. Chapter Four: Desperation

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, would I be sitting here, writing fanfiction about them? Wait… you're right – I probably would be.

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** This chapter is a little different from its predecessors; it takes place entirely in the 'present' – no flashbacks. For one thing, I wanted to work with what was happening in the 'now' for a little while, and for another, I wanted to focus on what exactly _was_ happening in that story line, as very little definite information has been given in regards to Obi-Wan's condition. So that is that.

As always, thank you to the reviewers:

**Anakin's Girl 4eva** – Thanks; and as for your question… I don't know if I should answer. Hmm… as evil as it might be of me not to, I think you'll have to wait just a little longer. Obi-Wan is arguably my favorite character in all of Star Wars… but I have killed my favorite characters off before… so, for the moment, I'll leave you to speculate to the true fate of Master Kenobi ;)

**Seylin** – Thank you very much, and I can't help but ask – where did your penname come from?

**i luv ewansmile** – I do love cliffhangers… sometimes. This one isn't so horrible, I don't think. And I am glad you enjoyed the flashbacks :D

**rlturner79** – I am most pleased you liked the birthday part; I wasn't entirely happy with how it came out, but I wasn't sure what else to do with it… I suppose, essentially, it just wasn't how I imagined it. Yet, you liked it, and that makes me glad.

**Shadow Padawan** – Indeed, poor Jedi. Thanks for the review.

**Obiwanfan** – Glad you like it, and thank you for reviewing! Hope you like this chapter as well.

**Padfoot Reincarnated** – Strange that just as you mentioned having been intrigued more so by the present story than the flashbacks, I come to a chapter set entirely in the 'now' – you seem to have a Jedi-like sense of intuition. It's detached; more through Luminara's eyes than Anakin's – but that won't last long, I promise – Anakin's depth of emotion is so much more fulfilling to write. Thank you for your review.

I love all of your reviews, please continue! I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and have a safe and Happy New Year :D

- EsotericCrimson

P.S. – I just finished a 2-day Star Wars movie marathon, and am immensely inspired. So… perhaps if you like this chapter, the next one (or more…) will be up sooner than usual :D

* * *

**Chapter Four: Desperation**

Silence reigned in the smallish room, laced with the scent of bacta and other general antiseptics, the sterility emphasizing the dire nature of the situation beyond any doubt. Jedi Knight and Former Master were side by side, only one of the them conscious, in a strange juxtaposition of strength and weakness – as, at that very moment, for all of his physical strength, Anakin Skywalker was a fragile as the thinnest and most precious crystal, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, in spite of the incessant bodily torment he was enduring, still possessed the strongest spirit of them all.

"His wounds appear to be healed," Anakin interjected sharply, piercing the silence with little regard for its sanctity. His eyes, however, held nothing but compassion and worry, overshadowed by a fathomless fear that neither the Mirialan Master nor the young Knight himself were willing to tackle at the present time. Therefore, it remained looming above them at all times, expanding and swelling to fill the emptiness where stillness once resided.

Luminara, however, did not falter. "They are. The bacta worked well, as is expected." Her eyes surveyed the patient lying on the bed almost apathetically as she observed the incapacitated Master objectively for only the briefest of moments; he had indeed healed very well.

"Then why isn't he awake?" Anakin's voice trembled as he voiced the question, his gaze fixed upon his Master, watching his chest rise and fall minutely every few seconds, ensuring that he was still alive…for now. His stomach clenched at the very implications of the thought.

The Master Healer paused. She had known from the very beginning that she would have to explain the situation to Anakin eventually; in fact, she genuinely wanted him to understand what was going on. Regardless, she had never been looking forward to the confrontation.

She breathed deeply, exhaling her words in a fragile tone that held a certain trepidation. "He was poisoned."

Anakin's head shot up, his eyes narrowed and blazing. She had expected that much. "What?"

Luminara sighed. "The weapons weren't natural, Anakin. They were laced with a toxin, the class of which I've never before encountered. It appears to be some altered strain of Trihexalon; that's the closest specimen I'm familiar with. However, none of the vaccines I have are proving effective."

"Why wasn't I affected? We were both wounded…" He looked younger than ever as he tried so hard to pinpoint even the most infinitesimal speck of reason in a simply illogical situation. So lost and alone without someone to guide him, to offer encouragement, to protect him, and for he, in turn, to protect – it seemed that Anakin Skywalker was nothing without his Master.

"I can't say for certain why. The wounds you sustained were from the customary Federation-order blaster pistol, assumedly fired by a droid. Obi-Wan, however, sustained numerous other injuries, in addition to the blaster fire. Among which were wounds inflicted by one of these," she held up a crimson-tipped dart, the likes of which Anakin had never seen. Exceedingly complex in design, it was a maze of contorted wires and strips of a steel-like metal that he couldn't recognize by sight alone. It was tailed with gleaming silver points, each marred at their center with a tapered stream of dusky gray. A fleeting notion that the aerodynamic capability of the projectile didn't quite make sense passed through his mind before he voiced the only obvious question he could come up with.

"What _is_ that?"

Luminara looked down at the small, pointed weapon resting in her clenched fingers, rotating it absently. "They don't compare even slightly with anything documented in the Archives. No one has any idea as to where it was engineered, what kind of technology it resembles… we've made little progress in identifying it. The venom they were infused with was almost assuredly developed as a weapon, perhaps for bounty hunters to disperse as required – yet we've searched all of the databases we can readily access, targeting specifically those systems heavily influenced by the Separatists, and have come up wanting every time. Without any indication as to the origin, it's proving very difficult to infer the nature of the pathogen."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Anakin pleaded with her, and she nearly lost her façade of composure at the pain infused in his words as it snaked through her ears and poisoned her being.

"Every Healer here with the available time and proper knowledge has been working hours on end to find something that might prove effective. We're exhausting very possible resource we have, I can assure you. We wouldn't accept anything less."

He said nothing, but his devastation was palpable as his eyes returned to his former Master. He knew exactly what she had made certain not to say – that Obi-Wan was dying, and no one knew why, nor how to stop it.

"Perhaps you forget, Anakin, that Obi-Wan is a dear friend of mine. I would go to the end of the galaxy and back if I thought it would help him," she commented softly, almost to herself, in a failed attempt to comfort them both. Even the best of intentions were worthless, now, and they both knew it. Dauntless, Luminara tried again.

"I've been trying to locate his consciousness within the Force."

"Isn't it better for him to heal while he's unconscious?" Anakin queried halfheartedly without looking up.

"In some instances, yes. However, Obi-Wan's body cannot heal what ails him; only the proper vaccine will be able to do that…" she trailed off; her own sense of hope that such a cure might be found in time was waning with each passing moment. "Regardless," she continued, attempting with everything she was to finish the thought with brevity and an almost narrative aloofness, trying her best not to concern Anakin even more, "when a patient does heal entirely in a physical sense, if the injuries inflicted upon them are severe enough, it is often the case that they will not awaken. You see, when faced with extreme pain and suffering, the mind, especially the mind of a Force-sensitive being, seeks a place of solace and peace. If a person remains in that place, a frame of thought often deeply removed from reality, for an extended period of time without reconnecting with any external existence, it is often difficult for them to regain consciousness. Some never do." She checked her medicinal stoicism quickly, realizing how she must sound, going on in such a manner. She knew that it would do him no good to swell on the negative. He realized how serious Obi-Wan's condition was; there was no need to continue to remind him if it could be helped – it was likely that he was crushed emotionally as it was, without her apparent pessimism.

"Even the briefest response can make the most significant difference – a slight brush of two minds, and a thought or emotion shared between them. That has been what I've been striving to establish with Obi-Wan. But it's not been a very fruitful effort; I can't even find him, let alone communicate with him. The bond I share with him is no where near strong enough to search for him properly, and I'm afraid that my luck will not be improving any time soon." She stared on at her patient, who, for the first time in many moons, happened also to be one of her closest friends. She began to lose herself in memories – some distant, and some recent – of conversations with the male Jedi Master; instances of good-natured bickering, light-hearted banter, and deep conversations about both the inconsequential and the crucial – when a soft voice, weighted down in agony, pierced her train of thought.

"It's my fault. If I had gone to him, if I'd made sure that he'd gotten out safely…"

"Stop such nonsense," Luminara barked sharply, her mood changing swiftly. The uncharacteristic tone drew Anakin's eyes from Obi-Wan for only the second time since he had entered the room. Her deep blue orbs were blazing with a cobalt fire that signaled something deeper and more sympathetic than anger, but more personal and significant than mere frustration or disappointment. If there was one thing Luminara Unduli could not often tolerate, it was pointless wallowing that detracted from the possibility of the present. It served no purpose, and accomplished no goal. It was useless.

"There is nothing to be gained by mulling over the allocation of a guilt that has no proper placement. No one is to blame in this. It's war, Anakin; these things happen. If you blame anyone, blame the Separatist for initiating this conflict; blame the aggressors, not yourself. You did nothing wrong - Obi-Wan knows that, I know that, and so do you."

She paused, moving slightly closer to Anakin, who was still situated on the floor next to Obi-Wan's bed. Her anger was short lived; it had no real target, and therefore no incentive to exist for very long; and she was now overcome by a sense of sympathy greater than her previous rage. Her hand came to rest upon his shoulder, and she gave it a light, but reassuring squeeze as she whispered, "Now is not the time to be dwelling on something as petty and inconsequential as culpability."

There was silence was more as she crouched beside him with a feline grace, her olive features studying his at eye level. His face was tear-stained, with the streams of each drop being renewed as fresh ones fell without regard. His eyes, however – his eyes frightened her. They looked dead in every sense of the word; they were cold, vacant, and appeared unseeing. He didn't blink, and the orbs themselves looked glassy as he continued to weep without sound or movement, his hand still clutching his Master's with a desperate fervency. His thumb was the only part of his body he moved consciously, and it was a never-ceasing pattern that it traced as he caressed the limp hand enveloped in his own.

The Healer rose, crossing to the opposite side of her patient and staring intently at him before turning her attention to one of a great multitude of medical droids, studying its readout.

"Now, we must focus on your Master," she continued off-handedly with a solemn determination as she moved in turn to the other mechanical devices surrounding Obi-Wan, evaluating the information they had to offer her with a calculated factuality that only the most talented of medical practitioners possess. She glanced up once she had completed her analysis of the reports, her gaze seeking Anakin once more – as expected, he had not moved.

"I won't lie to you, Anakin – I can't guarantee anything. I can promise you, however, that I will exercise every resource at my disposal; I will do whatever it is in my power to do in order to save him."

He did not respond to her touch or her words, but she hadn't expected him to. She stood once more and, with a single look of mingled pity and sadness aimed at the Knight on the ground, she left him to his grief.


	6. Chapter Five: Embers

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, would I be sitting here, writing fanfiction about them? Wait… you're right – I probably would be.

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** I would like to apologize, first and foremost, for the delay. It won't happen again… hopefully. The real world got me down for a bit, and therefore I didn't have the time to post anything new. More importantly, I didn't like where I was going with this chapter as it was, so I revamped it. Hopefully it came out better the second time around. And consequently, some of what comes after got a revision as well. I decided that, while the story is about the present, I started it as an excuse to be able to take a look at only snippets of the past. It was a way to tell two stories at once – that was the initial premise, and I'm going to try and stick closer to that from this point forward. This chapter, thus, takes place as a quick glimpse at the past… development for the future of Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship, which is much different from the one they share in the films. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up very soon, and take place mostly in the present.

A big thank you to my reviewers, of course:

**Lincoln Six Echo**: Thank you, and I do plan to finish it. As soon as possible. Thanks for the push to do so with your review.

**Lea Nikkaya**: Sorry to leave you there… this chapter has no such cliffhanger – it's pretty much just a quick glimpse at the past.

**OritPetra**: Thank you so much for your compliments :D

**rlturner79**: I love angst too. What is it about angst that makes it so appealing?

**Seylin**: Thanks, and I just _knew_ that you're name had to be from The Hollow Kingdom trilogy! They're some of my favorite books… and Seylin's so awesome… I tried to convince my little sister to name her cat Seylin recently, but I think she's too young to really go with that…

**i luv ewansmile**: Oh yes, Anakin should be the one trying to connect with Obi-Wan. Indeed. You're so perceptive… hint hint

**Anakin's Girl 4eva**: I am cruel, aren't I? Sorry… I don't mean to be. Well, maybe I do ;) But thanks for the review!

**ednyadove**: Thank you so much! Your review made me smile :D

**Obiwanfan**: Thank you, and hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter as well.

Enjoy, and if you get a moment, please review. They make my day :D

- EsotericCrimson

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five: Embers**

_He was younger than he wished to be when he first realized it, but older than he should have been, in his own personal opinion. He should have been more observant, he should have seen. Should have noticed._

_His eyes were never the same, and Anakin had _never_ noticed – not once. Had he been asked what shade they were before that night, he would have said gray, perhaps a murky light blue. They were eyes, most humanoids had them, and they were nothing special. _

_But _Force_, had he been wrong._

_It had been a particularly frustrating day. They had been assigned to a diplomatic mission on Lowick, a backwoods planet that was, in Anakin's humble opinion, halfway across the galaxy and in no real need of Republic interference. Most planets that didn't appeal to him fell conveniently into that category. Yet, when he had attempted to bring this up to his Master, he was met with a sigh, a shrug, and something that could very possibly been a very small smile, accompanied by a shake of the head and nothing more. The issue had been laid to rest shortly after they had arrived. _

_Unfortunately for Anakin's tendency towards an extreme lack of patience, the amphibian natives seemed to be exceedingly slow in their debates. In fact, they had spent the majority of an entire day of negotiations greeting each other, and another three sessions inquiring as to the health and wellbeing of each delegation's nearest relations. While endearing to some, such small talk, and the obvious inability of the ambassadors to remain on topic, made Anakin simply want to return to Coruscant and his predictable, and in comparison, very exciting lifestyle at the Temple._

_Each evening they enjoyed a fabulously resplendent meal of what were considered native delicacies, which, upon the insistence of his Master, Anakin had sampled and discovered an intense liking for. Thankfully, their dinners were taken in their guest quarters, as neither Jedi had enough composure to attend the nightly banquets with the dignitaries, as these affairs were often as lengthy as the daily debates, and were riddled with enough mindless drivel to spoil anyone's appetite. Even a diplomat such as Obi-Wan did not require pleading with to indicate most politely that he and his apprentice would prefer not to be involved in undue socialization with either party partaking in the negotiations – something about "neutrality" or the like. Anakin in particular had appreciated the genius of the excuse – it made perfect sense, and got him out of enduring long hours of pointless discussion on the diameters of the third and fourth suns of planets in outlying star systems ever he had never heard of._

_"When are we going home, Master?" It had to have been the eightieth time he'd asked, and that was no exaggeration._

_"Is it so horribly dreadful here, Anakin? Honestly?"_

_"Yes," Anakin grumbled stubbornly._

_"At least it's a beautiful planet. Be thankful for that. The mountains are simply magnificent, and the water is clearer than even Naboo's. After all, it could be boring and ugly – how would you like that? Wouldn't that be worse?"_

_"It doesn't matter what the planet looks like, Master. If it's boring, it's boring."_

_Obi-Wan chuckled strangely, drawing Anakin's attention. "What's funny?" Anakin demanded, instantly indignant. He hated it when people laughed at him._

_Yet Obi-Wan simply smiled and shook his head knowingly. "You still have so very much to learn."_

_Anakin could think of a number of appropriate retorts for the harmless slight, but for once thought better of them. Instead, he opted to sulk, which elicited another vaguely-concealed chortle from the Jedi Master._

_This only served to increase the intensity of the boy's brooding._

_"You know that I was the only one who could have taken this mission."_

_Anakin shrugged. "I know."_

"_None of the other available Knights have even a slight understanding of the original language of Lowickese. I've at least managed to figure out some of it, and even a vague familiarity was preferable."_

_Obi-Wan was met with an indignant huff. "They speak Basic here."_

_"That's not the point." Then silence_

_Anakin continued to stare off into oblivion when he felt a tug on his robes. Obi-Wan had crossed the room and was now looming above him._

_"Come on, then."_

_Anakin looked up, confused, meeting his Master's expectant gaze as the man rose from his seat, robes flowing behind him as he crossed the room in just a few strides to stand beside his Padawan. Obi-Wan held a cloak out towards him, waiting for him to take it._

_"The sun's set – it will be rather cold outside."_

_Wrapping himself in the familiar fabric, Anakin reluctantly rose and made to follow._

_The walk wasn't long, and Anakin was intrigued as to their destination, though he would never have owned to it. He smelled the smoke before he saw the fire; felt the warmth before he eyed the flames. Reaching the elevated shrine, Obi-Wan stepped behind him as they approached the pyre._

_"Fire is revered as a bringer of life on this planet, instead of a destructive force. It's a thing of beauty, and power. This particular fire has many names and legends associated with it, it seems, yet what I do know of it for certain is that it has never been allowed to die since the dawn of this culture's recorded history."_

_Obi-Wan stepped closer to the flames, edging to his Padawan's side. Anakin's breath caught as the firelight reflected in his Master's eyes. At that angle, they were colorless, but the way in which they reflected the flickering light was spectacular – watery and multi-faceted like glass, shining brilliantly in the darkness, as a pair of diamonds in the setting sun._

_"I would venture to say that no one can know for certain – surely none alive would know – but it is said that the first Lowickan Firegems were discovered at the site from which this fire was harvested. The gems themselves are difficult to come by these days – they were outlawed some years ago as a potential terrorist device, and few people remember they ever existed. Yet I would venture to say that one resides at the heart of this particular inferno, an ever-burning testament to these people and their way of life – their ancestors and theirs, for centuries on end, perhaps longer. "_

_Anakin was impressed with the tale, but more interested in watching his Master as the elder Jedi continued to look into the fire. Aquamarine eyes shifted to azure, then blazed to an emerald shade, nearly glowing olive as the fire sparked before them. The emotion he managed to read within their depths spoke of a long-suppressed sadness, and Anakin was struck with the fact that Obi-Wan was probably thinking about Qui-Gon's funeral. "Where'd you learn all that?"_

_Obi-Wan sounded sadly nostalgic as he replied. "My Master brought me here when I was just a few years older than you are; it was one of our early missions. Yet," he continued, his voice becoming more lighthearted, "I could have probably told you a good deal of that from my formative education." Obi-Wan paused, a small smile crossing his features as he made eye contact with his Padawan. "You know, Anakin, you _would_ learn something if you actually paid attention in your lessons."_

_Obi-Wan's grin lit up his whole countenance, and his eyes danced with mirth and betrayed yet another color hidden within. "Yes Master, I know."_

_The shimmering cerulean streaked with his Master's joy struck him as something undeniably beautiful – and somehow, he knew that he would never in his life see anything more divine._

* * *

Years later, he knew that he had been right. 

He shuddered mentally as, in his now-interrupted solitude, he finally allowed himself to truly study the form of his unmoving Master. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to the still figure, taking in his waxen complexion, his delicate appearance, his unnerving quiescence. Obi-Wan was a reserved man; he was intense in a silent and complex way. His posture could reveal more than his words in many instances, and his body spoke of struggle and pain as he lay still before Anakin. His positioning spoke of defeat.

In light of this, at that instant, Anakin could see in his mind only two eyes, a pair so full of life, and hope – overflowing with compassion and determination. They reflected a world romanticized in such a way that one could believe that anything was possible, so long as Obi-Wan Kenobi was by their side to make it so. Such beauty was held captive within those eyes – so much love swirled in their glassy depths.

He squeezed his Master's hand desperately. He'd give anything to see those eyes one more time.


	7. Chapter Six: Faith

**Title:** Consecrated 

**Author:** EsotericCrimson

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If you haven't gotten that by now…

**Summary:** When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.

**A/N:** The next few chapters, as it seems, will be snapshots that begin to solidify Obi-Wan and Anakin's current relationship, showing how they came to trust each other, how their loyalty to one another was shaped, and how their affections were secured. Hopefully it won't be too boring ;) I am actually thinking of hinting at some pre-slash before it was originally intended for this fic, by changing an upcoming chapter. Any opinions on that?

As for this chapter - I was going to go into more detail with what happened in the flashback, but as it turned out, it wasn't necessary, and was cut out. I encourage you to use your imagination if you feel so inclined in the absence of definite description.

Again, thanks to the reviewers:

**Seylin**: We're not quite nearing the end yet. And don't cry! I would feel bad if I made you cry… 

And as for the third Hollow Kingdom book – it is excellent, of course… but probably my least favorite, incomparison.

**i luv ewansmile**: Thanks. And I suppose the question is now – am I such a review whore that I will allow Obi-Wan to livefor another review? ;) I'm not quite that desperate yet… but I wonder whether you will get your wish anyway… ponders

**allymcnally**: Why thank you :D

I heart reviews, so if you get a chance to send one my way, it would make my day. Anyway, enjoy!

- EsotericCrimson

* * *

**Chapter Six: Faith**

_"Obi-Wan, you know that I believe you. They believe you. But it's protocol… we have to…"_

_Obi-Wan paused and turned towards the tall Corellian Master. "No, I understand. I know the procedure well enough, Master Gallia. I don't expect exceptions."_

_"Obi-Wan, please. Don't shrug me off with formalities. It's been long enough."_

_Obi-Wan sighed resignedly. "Adi… I'm sorry. It's just… I still, I can't, I," he paused, breathing deeply. "I apologize. I am being selfish. It was only, the last time I set foot on New Apsolon…"_

_Her eyes turned sympathetic. "It's alright, Obi-Wan. I understand. Old wounds reopen and bleed as steadily as they ever had before. It still pains you…" the beautiful Jedi Master approached the younger man, placing a dark hand tenderly upon his shoulder. "Know that we have not forgot them. Though at times it may seem as if we have… Qui-Gon will never be overlooked, and Tahl is often in my thoughts."_

"_Thank you," Obi-Wan whispered, and she could see that her words were a true comfort to the younger man._

_She nodded to him before returning to the original subject. "For now though, just please believe me. This will all be over in no time."_

_"I don't fear the Council, Adi, nor the Courts. I just can't imagine how I'm going to explain it to Anakin."_

_"He's a smart young man, Obi-Wan, he'll understand. And he'll be fine with it," she paused here, smiling in a reminiscent way. "I questioned my dead friend's judgement when he presented that boy to the Council. I did not agree that Skywalker should be trained."_

_Obi-Wan was silent a moment. "Nor did I," he replied quietly, his words tinged with shame._

"_You have done well with him, Obi-Wan. And anyone can see that he rather idolizes you. He will find no failing in you when you break the news of these unfortunate affairs of politics. In any case, it is only temporary."_

_Obi-Wan sneered despondently at the final comment. "So long as the Courts find no fault with me."_

_"You have no reason to believe that they will. You acted as any of us would have, and more importantly, as you should have. The Living Force is a mysterious thing, Obi-Wan. We don't always comprehend why it beckons us to act as it does. We, as Jedi, set ourselves apart because we do not dwell upon that question. We see that will done, regardless of whether we know for certain why, because we believe it is right. And it is right, Obi-Wan. You must trust always that it is."_

_Obi-Wan turned away from her gaze. "Not always, Adi."_

_"Your lack of faith is troubling, Obi-Wan."_

_Obi-Wan thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "There are times when what seems, from all possible aspects, to be the will of the Force is contradictory to the Jedi way – against the code, against our lifestyle, against the precepts we live by and uphold."_

_Adi smiled serenely as she met her friend's changeable eyes. "Obi-Wan, sometimes what is necessary is not always what is right. The Jedi do what they can, but necessary evils - wrongs that are required - often find themselves within our practices. Alliances we would rather avoid, concessions we do not approve of, biases and instances of yielding that we cannot justify in our hearts or minds, but on paper, in terms of legality and feasibility, we must submit to. The Code is something we live by, yes, but each of us must decide whether we shall be bound by it; whether it shall live with you as an aide, as a guide, or for you, in your stead, against your own will. I am certain you know this as well as I. Remember it, and you will never falter. Believe in it, and you shall never be alone." _

* * *

_Anakin was lying upon his bed, staring intently at the ceiling. Obi-Wan was supposed to have come back two days ago. He had been sent on a mission, one supposedly too dangerous for a Padawan to accompany him on. Anakin now regretted that he couldn't recall where Obi-Wan had told him he was going; the young Jedi had been too angry and offended that he has obviously too 'weak' and 'inexperienced' to handle the situation on planet wherever to save whomever, that he hadn't been concentrating on a word his Master had said about the assignment itself. _

_He had felt his Master's presence in the Temple, or at least he thought he had, a few hours prior – but Obi-Wan had never been detained so long after returning from a mission. At least, he never was when they were together._

He would never own to it, but he was growing slightly worried. Only slightly. More concerned, really. Just a little bit concerned.

_"Anakin?" came a voice from the door._

_Anakin leaped from his bed with dizzying speed, dashing out to the living area. "Master, you're back!"_

_Obi-Wan smiled wearily to return his Padawan's wide and enthusiastic grin. "Yes, indeed. Things became rather more involved that I had intended to see them become."_

_Anakin didn't really think that Obi-Wan had been looking for a response, so he simply continued beaming at his Master. Already he was happier – more content. His Master was **home**. _

_So distracted was he by his excitement at Obi-Wan's return that he hadn't caught the anxiety radiating from his Master, Anakin was therefore taken aback by the solemnity with which he found himself now being spoken to. _

_"Anakin, I must tell you something, and I need you to listen to me. I need you to listen, and I need you to understand."_

_Nodding, and wiping the smile from his face, Anakin steeled himself for whatever was to follow._

_"While I was on New Apsolon, there was an incident. Chaos reins on the planet, and the disorder was greater than we had expected. Corruption was rampant everywhere. There was a… an attempt on the lives of those within the current governing body, and violence broke out on all fronts. Many lives were lost, and I was forced to make some very difficult decisions. I chose to save innocent bystanders, and by that action I caused many of the governing officials to die through my inaction. Because of this, what is left of the government of New Apsolon has requested an investigation. Unfortunately, the Jedi cannot handle this inquisition alone; the Senate Courts will lead the inquiry. According to protocol, I must relieve myself from all of my current duties in order to assist the inquest in any way I am able, and I am preferred to remain in quarters close to the proceedings, provided by the Justice Department. I will be leaving tomorrow; you will continue with your lessons, and the Council shall see to your wellbeing until I return."_

_Anakin was nearly stunned speechless. "Master…"_

_"Please, Anakin. It's difficult enough being in this position in the first place. I must ask you, don't fight me on this."_

_Anakin took a shuddering breath, attempting desperately to process everything he had just heard. Obi-Wan was some sort of… suspect? He knew Obi-Wan would never risk lives unnecessarily – he would sacrifice his own life to save just one soul, if he could. How could anyone accuse Obi-Wan, of all people, of such a thing? Accuse him of any kind of wrongdoing or misconduct? Obi-Wan was the epitome of a Jedi! _

_Filled with an indignant rage, he blurted out suddenly, "This is absurd! You didn't do anything wrong! It's not fair, it's wrong, it's…"_

_"Life, Anakin, is often something much less than fair. But we must have faith that justice will prevail."_

_There was something hidden in his Master's tone that stayed Anakin's tongue from protesting further. It seemed almost that Anakin's defense of Obi-Wan became the torment of Obi-Wan himself. And for the life of him, Anakin could not understand why._

_As if sensing his confusion, Obi-Wan replied softly, massaging the bridge of his nose in defeat, "It is not you, Anakin. Please, do not think that it is you."_

_And that would have to be enough, Anakin knew._

_"Can you at least stay here?" Anakin pleaded quietly._

_"Anakin, I think it would be best that I cooperate with these people to the full extent to which I am able."_

_"Please?" Anakin begged, suddenly very desperate to not be alone again – to not be left to worry for his Master all by himself. Because worrying about him across a few buildings was just as painful as worrying about him half a galaxy away._

_Obi-Wan was ready to protest, but the forlorn look in his young Padawan's eyes gave him pause. He hated greatly to cause Anakin undue suffering. Within the Force, he could sense his apprentice's unrest and apprehension. Relaxing slightly, he was compelled to assuage the boy's fears temporarily with an indecisive "We'll see."_

_Anakin was well aware it was best he would receive at this point, and was uncharacteristically grateful for it – a fact that did not go unnoticed by his Master._

_"Would you mind making some tea while I use the 'fresher? I haven't bathed since I arrived planetside."_

_"Sure, Master," Anakin answered simply as Obi-Wan left the room. Even if it was just a few chambers away, for some reason he didn't want to let his Master out of his sight._

* * *

Obi-Wan had returned, in spite of Anakin's paranoid fears. He had ended up convincing Obi-Wan to stay with him through the ordeal in their quarters at the Temple, instead of in some unfamiliar place among those who wished to accuse him. His Master, as had been predicted, had been cleared of any guilt in the matter within a week – surprisingly expedient for the Courts of the Galactic Senate. Yet it would have been exceedingly difficult to condemn one of the most successful Jedi Knights in recent history. 

Anakin still recalled the relief that flooded onto his Master's features when they had returned that evening. It had mirrored that which he had felt as well.

Anakin considered the memory, remembering how protective he had felt of Obi-Wan during that period in their lives – for the first time, he had found something he could help his Master through, found a way to be there for the man who seemed to be around for him whenever he was needed. He had never stopped being protective of Obi-Wan after that. When he had been younger, he hadn't been able to defend him physically in as adept a fashion as he had wished – even now he was bold and often foolhardy, lunging headfirst into situations that required more presence of mind and poise, things that Obi-Wan Kenobi possessed in excess.

Yet always, it had fallen to Anakin to protect and safeguard the one thing that mattered most to him, the one thing that Obi-Wan himself often failed to realize needed defending as much as his body.

Anakin, from that day onward, had been most diligent in protecting his Master's heart.

It had been both a challenge and an easy task; he had determined that early on. Obi-Wan was a composed man – he never let his emotions get the better of him, never allowed them to cloud his judgement, and very rarely expressed them openly, or even reservedly. Thus, Anakin often had little to work at protecting. Yet it didn't take very long in knowing his Master to realized that Obi-Wan felt all things acutely, intensely, and even if he didn't display it, the emotion was there nonetheless. But how could he ensure the safety of what he could not even see? How could he make sure Obi-Wan was emotionally sound if the man never exposed his heart in the first place?

It had puzzled him, always. He wondered, often, what exactly Obi-Wan felt for _him_.

"What are you thinking about?" A voice permeated his musings. Anakin knew the voice as it reached his ears from the side, and he had never much cared for its owner.

"Him."

He was met with a scoff. "That's a rather difficult, not to mention broad, topic. Don't hurt yourself."

Anakin turned quickly to meet the young Knight's gaze, and was surprised to find the exotic face to hold laughing eyes – the deeply colored lips turned up ever so slightly, peeking out from behind the towering stack of blankets she balanced in her arms.

"Honestly, Anakin. We all know thinking was never your strong point."

Anakin was confused by her teasing friendliness. Under normal circumstances, he may have taunted her, but the situation at hand was far from normal, and Anakin was far from feeling up to bantering with the Mirialan healer. He opted in stead for directness. "You and I have never gotten along, Barriss. What are you doing in here?"

Barriss sighed. "I thought you could use the company. You may not be my favorite person, Skywalker, but you don't deserve to sit in here day in and day out all by yourself."

Anakin was silent, listening half-heartedly as he turned back to Obi-Wan, hearing the healer set down her awkward load and approach him.

"You really should get out. Move around, stretch you legs. Or at least get some sleep. You were injured too, you know. You need to rest and recover."

Anakin tensed at the comment, something akin to a growl emitting from deep within his throat. Barriss sighed in defeat.

She left for a moment, reaching around the corner outside the room and returning with a circular tray in her hands.

"I brought you something to eat – Master Luminara says you haven't eaten in at least a day or two; why will you not take what she offers you?"

"I have no appetite."

Barriss moved closer with her food, bending down towards the distraught Knight.

"Master Kenobi would never wish you to do this, Anakin. Don't think me blind. He would wish you to care for yourself. I may never have been afforded the chance to know him well, but I am acquainted enough with him to know that much."

Anakin wished he could have spat back at her that she was right – she had never known Obi-Wan. She didn't know him, and thus had no right or place to speak for him. She didn't _deserve_ to be able to speak for him. But he couldn't, because somewhere within him, he knew she was right.

She was right, but that didn't mean he had to _agree_ with what was right.

Resolute, Barriss tried again. "I've seen the records for him, Anakin. He's healed miraculously. And absolutely every resource available has been exhausted for him. All we can do is wait. There's nothing else – time is the only option there is. Have patience, Anakin. And have faith. Things may yet be right."

Anakin never heard her leave, and only vaguely noticed the scent of the meal she left him.


End file.
